


Full to Burst

by MarbleAide



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Crossdressing, Cum Play, Dildos, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Prostate Milking, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleAide/pseuds/MarbleAide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been collecting them for a while now and tonight's the night Tom and Chris finally get to play with their new toys-- test the limits to see just how much Tom can take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full to Burst

**Author's Note:**

> Head the tags. This is all just pure smutty porn sex messiness.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this one~

The progress of obtaining each one took time. They switched off, back and forth, with who bought the next one. The only two rules they had were the next one bought had to be of greater size—either in length or width—then the other and none of them were allowed to be used until their collection was complete.

It took them almost nine months to finish, buying off and on and then waiting to show the other and pass on the next purchase to them. The first one was simple latex, white-flesh colored, six inches and from there the collection simply grew.

Tom had rolled his eyes when Chris brought back the hot pink one practically covered in overly-dramatic thick veins.

Chris was impressed with Tom’s purchase of pale blue glass, easy to slide in but the girth of it was going to halt progress.

Chris called ahead when he found the ten inch that vibrated. Wanted to know if it would be ‘cheating’ and Tom thanked God that this was just a phone call, so Chris couldn’t see him blush as he muttered into the speaker, ‘No, that’s fine, get it’ because the very idea of it made his pants tight.

It was the last one, bought online by Tom (because no, no, there was no hell in the seven rings of hell he was going into a shop to buy that fucking monster) that made Chris cock a brow, had to ask Tom if he was sure, to which Tom could only nod as he placed it among the rest of their collection finally complete.

Chris swallowed when he thought of that. After months it was done. All shapes, sizes, colors, textures… done. And they could continue.

“Ready?”

Tom licked his lips, eyes glued to the multiple fake-cocks spread out before them both according to size on the coffee table in their hotel room.

He nodded.

“Ready.”

\---

There’s no real need for foreplay, because they’re both ready for this. Been ready for this. Thought of this multiple times and have enough mental images of what might happen, what will happen, that the slow process of getting undressed and kissing and touching almost seems unnecessary now.

They undress without touching the other, the motions almost mechanical as shirts are removed, folded; socks are slipped off, belts undone and buttons popped open. Chris stops, however, when his eyes go towards Tom as he slides his pants over his thighs, taking pause because, well, it’s surprising.

“Those weren’t part of the plan.” He says, smiling as he’s now forgotten about his jeans, staring openly at the woman’s panties Tom’s wearing. They’re a soft pink with lace trim—lacing up the back when Tom turns enough that Chris can see. There’s a bow right at the top. They make Tom look thinner somehow, vulnerable. Hugging his hips in a way they were never meant to, his cock half-hard already nestled inside them ready to pop out at any moment.

Tom’s blushing from the tip of his ears down to his throat, growing rosy and pink just like the little pink things he’s got on, trying his damnedest to keep his hands down at his sides and no cover himself up. “Yes, well,” He’s embarrassed, clearly, because they hadn’t discussed this. He’d bought them on a whim and was almost too afraid to put them on that morning, but then what was the point of him buying them? “I wanted to surprise you.” His voice is soft, nervous, barely making eye contact with Chris long enough to ask that ‘yes or no’ question with his eyes.

Chris is silent for a moment. Takes Tom in. Up and down, all tall body, soft skin, lean muscle. Lanky, just light enough to be pale. Pink in the cheeks and right between his legs. Chris grins.

“You know those are going to be ruined after tonight, right?”

Tom brightens, smiles ever so slightly even when the blush intensifies.

“I can buy another pair. They came in yellow too.”

“Good,” Chris moves the few inches, slaps Tom’s ass hard enough to make him jump, the sound of it loud and crisp in the air for a second. “Now get on the bed. Arms up, leg’s spread.”

It’s simple and easy and they both fall into the motion of it. The bedroom is comfortable territory, even when they do uncomfortably new things. Like when Chris ties up Tom’s wrists to the headboard with his belt, tightening it until Tom gasps and wiggles his fingers just to make sure the blood can still flow. How Tom repeats his safeword over and over again whenever Chris asks, slaps him once across the cheek, demands the syllables from Tom’s lips and does it again, harder, just for good measure.

Chris still isn’t even naked, still has his jeans loose around his hips, when he takes up the first dildo, coats it in lube, and then plucks Tom’s little pink panties aside to nudge it into his hole. It’s small. It’s easy. Tom gasps with it still, wriggles a bit at the feeling of being stretched, even though he is well aware of what is to come. Once it’s in, all the way in, pressed up inside Tom enough that Chris can move the panties back over Tom’s hole, he sits back to just look for a second. Two. Thinks that Tom could get away with that inside him, thinks he’d really like to know Tom was walking around with a dildo inside of him, like to see how long he could last with it in before he started mewling for it out.

“Chris,” The voice breaks him out of the fantasies, looks up to see Tom flush, licking his lips, flexing his fingers. “Stop staring. Let me take the next one.” Because how very dull that one is—only six inches, thin, doesn’t even have Tom panting yet. It’s too easy to take, too easy to push in without Tom’s breathe hitching, so Chris obeys, pulls the underwear aside once more to slide the toy out—not doing so, however, before he can thrust it in a few times, have Tom jerk with the motion and pull on his restraints. It leaves Chris smiling ever so slightly, as he pushes aside the first simple dildo to go onto the second.

The next one’s thicker. Takes a bit more time and lube until Tom finally relaxes to let it in. It makes him moan, his dick poking out of the panties now, as Chris thrust inside him over and over again making sure his muscles are loose. He takes it out when Tom starts thrusting back into it, gets to comfortable with that particular cock and needs to step it up because this isn’t about Tom being comfortable, getting off with a simple little dick up his ass—it’s about how much Tom can take, how much he can stretch open and be fucked until he can’t anymore. Until he’s begging for it to stop and even then Chris won’t finish until they’ve gone through every single one of the dildos they’ve bought over the months.

Tom’s first orgasm rips through him almost by surprise on the fourth dildo, which is just about the same size as Chris’s own. His prostate is stabbed at in a way that leaves white spots flashing through his vision, over and over again as he twists against the belt holding him down. His panties are soaked with cum, smeared over his stomach as his hips jerk upward over and over again riding out the sensation. Chris moves the dildo in and out a few more times, hearing Tom whimper, before pulling the plastic thing out with a slick ‘pop’.

 

 

There’s no pause, no waiting, as Chris slicks up the next one—the blue glass—and loves it when Tom arches his back, groans as he tries to get away from the sensation of being stretched again too soon, still sensitive.

“J-Just wait, a second, Chr—“

 The rest of the name catches in Tom’s throat as Chris twists his wrist just right, presses hard until the smooth length slides inside the pliant body. It’s a tight fit, stretching Tom out in a way that makes him gasp, shift around trying to find a comfortable position to take it. The glass feels so cold for a little while, until his body heats it up and suddenly all Tom can feel is how full it makes him feel, muscles clamping down around it. His dick gives a twitch, half interested as Chris beings being it, the thickness of this one making it so every hard jab forward brushes right against his prostate. It’s maddening, hurts just slightly, but Tom squeezes his eyes closed, bites his lips, and takes it. Chris watches all these little movements happen, making sure to speed up the thrusts so it happens some more.

By the end of the glass dildo, Tom’s hard against and keening for it. Thinks that’s the fastest he’s ever gotten hard again since he’s left his teens. His head his swimming from so much sensation and probably a lack of blood pumping through it, though the sound of his heartbeat right between his ears is so loud he has to think otherwise.

“See? You loved it.” Chris sneers, removing the wet dick from Tom’s body to toss it aside. Instead of grabbing another one right away, Chris slips three of his fingers right in Tom’s hole—because he can, Tom’s stretched out and wet and his body is willing, craving it, and no resistance is met at all as he sinks in right down to the last knuckle. Tom’s whining, biting at his lip as he tries to pull away from the fingers. The dildos before them didn’t wiggle inside him, didn’t crook and press and seek out his prostate until he cried out when it was pushed, rubbed, over and over against until Tom was drooling because he forgot how to swallow. “You’re fucking gagging for it, Tom. Want every single one of these dicks we bought. Not going to stop until they’re all sloppy and warm from being inside you.”

This orgasm rips through him, tears away from his body which leaves Tom pulling at his wrists, legs kicking out. It’s forced too fast, too much sensation, cum collecting to wet the material of his underwear again, cooling against his sink in an ever-thickening layer that will only grow as the night goes on.

Chris is grinning when he pulls his fingers free. Moves to spread Tom’s legs open once more as his body is now so soft and pliant. He’s too dazed to notice much else up his own breathing, though the feeling of the next toy getting pressed into his entrance makes him gasp, but that’s as far as his reaction goes before it sinks in.

\---

On the sixth dildo, Tom’s panties are removed. They’re soaked, see-through, clinging to Tom’s skin and just getting in the way now. The lace trim is ripped in some places, the legs stretch a little too far to go back to normal. Chris throws them aside off the side of the bed and they land on the floor with a satisfying ‘flop’.

Chris can’t wait to see what the yellow ones look like on him.

\---

The seventh is the vibrator. Chris takes his time with this one. He leaves it in the longest. Make sure it’s pressed right up to Tom’s prostate before he turns it on. This is the one that makes Tom sob; makes the tears start to fall. His eyes are red and his lips are shining and his voice is broken and stumbles past little shocked cries. He’s begging and struggling, but not enough to make it count. Not enough for Chris to care, because they’re not the right words.

Orgasm three makes all his muscles tighten up. There’s barely any cum to shoot out, but some does anyway. It starts dripping down his sides with the amount, starts to pool and wet the bed’s sheets. Tom’s lungs are heaving. He thinks he might pass out.

Chris turns the vibrator up, makes Tom scream, and leaves him there.

By the time he returns Tom’s sobbing. His prostate is being stimulated too much, makes his body feel like he’s on fire. His cock isn’t even hard anymore, but there’s a tense shudder that runs through him, a little dribble of what’s left in his balls. Chris drags him fingers through the collection of cum, makes his fingers sticky with the mixture of lube on them, rubs it all into Tom’s sink and paints him until his entire abdomen is shiny with it. Chris doesn’t remove the vibrating dick until Tom’s come once more. He’s broken and crying and begging for it to stop. Chris is merciful, turns it off, takes it out, but the next toy is bigger and then Tom is crying for an entirely different reason.

\---

The second-to-last toy is a big blue thing. Eleven inches and round enough that Chris can’t close his fingers around it. He pours a generous amount of lube onto the thing, slicks it until it’s dripping and then presses the head against Tom’s hole, not going in, just making him feel the solid head.

Tom’s barely conscious. He’s come a sixth time between the vibrator and now, though it was only a bodily shutter that made his spine arch. He stopped crying a little while ago, though his cheeks are still wet and his eyes dazed, distant. His wrists will have bruises in the morning, dark lines were Tom pulled too hard and his fingers tingle a bit from lack of circulation, but he’s too tired to voice it properly, just keeps twitching his fingers to make sure he could still feel them. He’s muttering ‘please’ over and over again to which Chris doesn’t know whether to take that as a bad thing or a good thing.

Chris slaps his thigh, breaks Tom out of his trance long enough to ask his question.

“What’s your safeword?”

It takes Tom too long to answer. Chris slaps him again.

“Shakespeare.”

“Again!”

“Shakespeare!”

Chris smiles, gives his praise, and then starts pressing the toy inside Tom’s body. It’s a tight fit, the ease in is slow, making sure that he doesn’t do any permanent damage. He keeps his grip firm against Tom’s hip, holding him down so he doesn’t move around too quickly and hurt himself. Tom’s whimpering, withering, entire body aching and throbbing and wanting it to stop. Everything buzzing, a horrible mixture of being too much and pleasure and pain and everything that Tom can possibly think of right now, though all he can focus on is the thick toy pressing inside him, relentless as inch by inch his body excepts it.

It takes time, effort, more lube, but soon enough the last bit slides in easy. It leaves both men aching, panting, because Tom is spent and Chris is so transfixed by the image of how stretched Tom is around the toy. How comical it almost is. They’ve been at this for hours now and they’re almost done, just one more with Tom being so full he’ll burst with it.

The very thought gets Chris excited, really excited. He’s in awe already and looking over at the only toy left on the bed, he just has to wonder how Tom could ever  get loose enough to take that monster cock. But he will, god be damned, he fucking will.

“C-Chris…” Tom’s voice is shaky, he’s trying to pull air into his lungs but it seems like it’s not working. “I…I think w-we need to stop. B-break. J-just a break. I need…we’ve been at this for a while. I just—“

“No.” Chris replies automatically, stern as he takes the base of the toy and twists it into Tom until he yelps, jerks, trashes for a second before a weak whimper leaves his throat.

“P-please, I can’t—“

“Not yet, we have one more and you’re going to take it like the sloppy little bitch you are.”

Tom flinches, blushes, but doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t safeword out, so Chris continues on as he has been doing. He slowly pulls the blue cock from Tom’s body, Tom’s muscles clamping down around the plastic, making it harder to get out.

When it’s gone, Tom is wide open; gaping so much Chris can see his red insides as his hole winks open and closed as best it can. He’s all wet, stretched, perfect. There’s no time to waste as Chris dumps the remainder of the lube onto the last toy—big, black, thirteen inches and close to that around. It won’t fit. Will tear Tom apart, but they haven’t been working up to exactly this not to try.

He presses it up to Tom’s hole, waits for him to breathe for a second, feel it, then give a reluctant nod before pressing forward.

The first bit slips in easier then Chris ever thought possible, but it’s about halfway in before Tom’s insides start trying to push it back out. He’s clamping down, moaning and shifting, so Chris has to hold him, tell him to relax, breathe, and it’s another five minutes or so before the next few inches is in. More time, patience, and new tears from Tom gets it just about there. Almost all the way.

Chris gets excited, too much so maybe, and reaches up to press his hand against Tom’s lower abdomen, feeling it as the dildo moves up inside Tom’s body further.

The sudden pressure, weight, suddenly makes Tom gasp, arch up, jerk his body, and suddenly he’s shaking his head, pulling at the belt once more.

“No, no, no, C-Chris—please, please, please!” He’s begging for something that isn’t properly vocalized, sobbing brokenly and Chris thinks it’s because he due for another orgasm, even if his body protests. He pushing the dildo harder, trying to get it to sink the last few inches in while still feeling as it moves inside Tom’s bowels, pressing into his intensives. He’s still crying, shivering, nails biting into his palms, but not once does he ever let the safeword slip and his cock is so hard Chris knows he’s aching for it.

So he keeps at it. With the dildo moving slowly in and Tom begging for it to stop. Chris is muttering filthy things at Tom now—how he’s a slut, how he fucking wants it. How even though he’s come so many times he’s hard again for this massive cock because Tom needs to be as full as possible, isn’t that right you fucking slut?

It’s some sort of breaking point. Everything happens at once.

The last bit of the dildo slides inside Tom, pressing inside him deeper then anything else ever has, feeling too solid and big like Chris’s damned fist was there instead.

It hurts. Everything hurts. But it’s the pressure. The pressure is too much, with the cock and Chris’s hand and—

His control falters, breaks, shatters, and Tom is screaming as his entire body spasms for a second, muscles contract before letting go and they’ve been at this for far too long without stopping, it’s only natural and Tom tried to warn him, he did!

Because Tom’s pissing, fucking pissing out warm all over his stomach, Chris’s hand, steaming down over his hips and sides, soaking into the bed while he sobs and moans because it leaves his body aching, waited so long, drains him of everything he’s got left.

Chris is shocked, eyes wide, just watches it all happen and doesn’t know what to do. Sits there as Tom empties his bladder after holding it all in for so long, desperate, with the shame of it burning bright all over his face.

It’s warm, wet, goes on for a while before it finally trickles down and stops.

Chris is silent, Tom’s panting—eyes closed, trying to hide his face in his arm. He’s still crying, but silently this time.

And it’s like that for a while until, finally, Chris eases the dildo out of Tom as gently as he can. Tom still groans softly as it exits, but otherwise no noise is heard. Chris inspects him, finds no damage, then quickly unbuckles the belt to which Tom’s arms collapse down at his head, too tired to move further. He’s still not looking at Chris, to which he finds that a problem.

So, Chris fixes it. Slides along Tom’s body, resting against him and letting himself get mixed up with the mess now between them both. Chris presses his forehead to Tom’s, kisses the corner of his mouth.

“You alright?”

Slowly, Tom nods. Let’s his eyes open.

“You took them all, you know.” Chris smiles all softly with kind eyes, waiting for Tom to do the same back. He does.

“Yeah, and tomorrow it’s your turn.” Tom laughs just a bit, as much as he can, and Chris does the same.

They go to sleep like that, in ruined sheets covered in bodily fluids, and fifteen dildos slick with lube thrown about on the floor.


End file.
